


IKEA: Or, How Ed Zeddmore Realised He Was Fucked

by Murf1307



Series: Imagine Your OTP... [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coffee, IKEA Furniture, M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murf1307/pseuds/Murf1307
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The table in HQ came from IKEA.  Ed may yet kill it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	IKEA: Or, How Ed Zeddmore Realised He Was Fucked

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from imagineyourotp.tumblr.com: "Imagine your OTP getting really confused when trying to build IKEA furniture."

“God damnit!” Ed shouts to the empty garage, lying under the stupid IKEA table that, for some reason, won’t stay up.  Just this evening, before everybody went out to pick up the pizza for the meeting (except him — he wanted to deal with the table and some paperwork while HQ was quiet), it had managed to collapse onto Corbett’s foot while he was trying to hand out coffee, and Corbett had dropped the coffee and tripped and got covered in coffee.

They’d sent him inside to change into new clothes, and everyone else had just up and left to get the pizza, so Ed’s not expecting to hear, “What’s wrong?” from somewhere behind him.

He tilts his head back to see bare feet sticking out of loose-hanging jeans, anklebones visible because the jeans are a little too short.

“Uh, stupid table.  Can’t get it to stay up — and I don’t want that to happen again,” he says, slithering on his back out from under the table and righting himself.  ”You could’ve gotten really badly hurt.”

Corbett shakes his head.  ”I’m fine.  I’m just going to smell like coffee for a few days.”

Ed almost doesn’t register the statement as he takes in the sight of Corbett wearing his borrowed clothes.  The t-shirt’s a Star Wars one — “Han Shot First” — and it’s one of Ed’s favorites.  It pulls tight across Corbett’s shoulders but hangs loose everywhere else, like the jeans.  Ed can’t help the flare of what can only be called possessiveness that flashes through him like lightning and settles simmering in his gut.

 

He snaps himself out of it to smile.  ”Good.  Uh, you wanna help me with the table?  I can’t make any sense of it.”

“Oh, um, sure,” Corbett replies, smiling skittishly.  

Ed nods, dropping back down to the floor and sliding under the table.  He’s not sure what the Hell he’s doing with this — five minutes ago, he hadn’t even known he’s attracted to Corbett.

But he jumps into new things with both feet, so he shoves the nervousness aside.  

Corbett climbs under the table with him, and they’re lying side-by-side.  Ed’s having trouble ignoring Corbett’s body heat even before he starts trying to focus on the table.  ”So, uh, I’m pretty sure these thingies are supposed to, like, slot together,” he says slowly.  ”But I’m not sure how.”

“Okay,” Corbett mumbles, turning toward Ed a little to better see what he’s talking about.

“The ones on the other side of the table are fine — just for some reason, this side of the table doesn’t want to do what that one is.”  Ed holds up the tabletop with one hand and fiddles with the slotty bits again.  ”Don’t even still have the directions, ugh.”

Corbett chuckles for a second before biting it back, like he couldn’t help himself.  Ed flushes a little, liking that laugh.  Corbett doesn’t laugh very often in meetings, though Ed supposes there’s usually very little reason to, with the whole ghost-hunting thing. Violent death isn’t really conducive to humor.

He struggles some more with the fiddly parts of the table one-handed, and then Corbett does something totally unexpected.  He reaches across Ed, bringing both of his hands up to help.  His fingers brush against Ed’s hand, and Ed is pretty sure he just felt sparks.  

He’s so fucked.

Corbett has really deft, nimble hands, and pretty soon, Ed just brings his hand out of the way and holds up the table, letting Corbett fix the table.

It gives him a lot of time to lie there and languish in Corbett’s body heat and closeness, so when Corbett moves his hands away from the very last corner, Ed turns over, his face inches from Corbett, and asks.

“Umm, I know this is a weird question, but, um, are you single?”

Corbett blushes bright red, mouth dropping open a little, like he can’t believe Ed’s asking that question.

“Because, I mean, uh I…” Ed tries to make words, but now that the question’s out there, he’s totally not capable, not with Corbett so close and so warm.

“…Y-yeah,” Corbett finally whispers, and Ed can feel Corbett’s breath on his lips.

Ed nods.  He smiles, nervous still but with a lot more confidence now.  ”Can I…can I kiss you?”

Corbett nods, lips a little parted, and Ed leans in.

And if the rest of the Facers show up ten minutes later to find the table perfectly stable, but Ed and Corbett making out underneath it, well…

Ed’s never really been one to wait.


End file.
